THE others were waiting when Jaz arrived at the mall, sweating and late because of talking to Mrs Elliott. She mumbled something about the bus breaking down, not wanting to tell them about her rest-home job. They’d expect her to splash out with her pay packets, but she’d still be strapped for cash. If they found out she was paying that chemist back she would lose all her hard-won credibility.
‘You could’ve texted us,’ Ange grumbled, then sighed heavily. ‘That’s right – I keep forgetting. You haven’t got a cellphone.’
‘I thought you’d moved in with the geriatrics,’ said Marie. ‘Couldn’t drag yourself away, like.’
Some of the others giggled, and Jaz laughed too. But even as she did so, she kicked herself. Why should she feel apologetic for spending time with her great-grandmother?
Ange and the rest of them had been able to go home after school to change. Dressed in their town gear, they looked cool and sophisticated – far older than their age. Jaz peered at her own reflection in a shop window. Unflattering school uniform, sweaty red face that clashed with the red hair. She groaned out loud. ‘Gross – I look a right freak!’
As she turned away from the window, she saw Marie nudge one of the others and exchange knowing glances. Jaz flushed.
‘No worries – soon fix that,’ said Ange, coming to her rescue. She fossicked through her shoulder bag. ‘Got some gel here, make-up and stuff. Marie – lend Jaz your top for the photo.’
‘You gotta be kidding!’ Marie stared at Ange in amazement. ‘No way.’
‘What’s your problem?’ Ange stared back. Suddenly, Jaz was reminded of Maggie’s description of the Captain and Henry Shewan as fighting cocks. The girls were face to face, just like that wildlife programme she’d seen once – two birds involved in some territorial dispute, feathers spread to increase their size, swaying beak to beak in time to an inaudible tune. She smothered her inadvertent giggle.
‘Oh all right. Don’t see why it has to be me though.’ Marie yielded, but she gave Jaz a look of pure dislike.
‘You’re the same size, aren’t you?’ Ange smiled sweetly. ‘That top’ll look so much better with her colouring anyway.’
Ouch. ‘It’s an awesome top,’ Jaz interrupted hastily. Ange’s approach was hardly likely to win Marie’s whole-hearted cooperation. ‘Where’d you get it?’
Marie didn’t deign to answer. With poor grace, she followed them to the toilets and shut herself into a cubicle. She tossed the slinky black top over the partition. ‘What am I meant to do in the meantime?’
‘I dunno – contemplate your navel or something.’ Ange wasn’t interested. ‘This won’t take long.’
In the next-door cubicle, Jaz was frowning at her own navel, still inflamed and crusty. Marie would go ballistic if she thought her precious top had been in contact with a disease zone. She pulled the form-fitting top over her head, then emerged self-consciously to apply Ange’s make-up at the mirror.
‘Hey, not bad,’ said Ange when she’d finished. ‘You scrub up quite well, girl.’ She put the make-up back in her bag. ‘Who’d have believed it?’
Jaz struck a pose. She wasn’t going to let Ange’s snide remarks get to her any more.
Ignoring the plaintive cry from Marie not to leave her stranded too long, they jostled their way past a toddler-laden shopper and out into the mall.
The photograph kiosk was a blast. Once Jaz had sat for the ID photo, the others piled into the booth with her. They kept putting money in the machine to capture increasingly extreme poses. For once they forgot about scoring points off each other. They didn’t emerge until they’d run out of cash, still shrieking with laughter and falling about.
‘Anyone for chocolate chip cookies and Coke?’ asked Ange, pulling out her credit card and waving it. ‘I’m feeling generous!’
Jaz’s exhilaration wavered. It was a bit odd, Ange having that credit card. She wondered uneasily whether it was her grandmother’s, but surely Ange wouldn’t steal from her grandmother?
Ange had noticed her reaction. ‘What’s your problem, Chapman?’
Jaz shrugged. ‘Just curious, that’s all.’ Ange couldn’t let her guard down for long, it seemed. Those feathers were spreading, it’d be beak and claws next.
Ange was waving the card at her. ‘I didn’t nick it, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
Jaz felt her ears go hot as they coloured. She wasn’t going to back off though. She showed her own claws. ‘Where did you get it?’
‘There is such a thing as a family card. Nan set it up so I’ve got access to her account, not that it’s any of your business.’ Ange grinned evilly at her. ‘She got pissed off with me pestering her for dosh all the time. Give me some credit!’
The others fell about laughing at the pun, and Jaz watched her preen. She was remembering what Ange had said earlier about keeping Nan sweet. It looked as though she had her grandmother just where she wanted her.
They’d been sitting in the café for ages, admiring the polaroid photos, when Marama clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Uh-oh! Marie! She’s still in the bog, isn’t she!’
‘So?’ said Ange, unrepentant. ‘Okay, okay! Guess we’d better go and rescue her.’
The furious Marie was still bolted in. Swearing viciously, she grabbed her top when Jaz threw it over the partition from the next-door cubicle. ‘Yuk, Chapman. It’s all sweaty!’
‘I did wash, you know,’ said Jaz. She ignored a pang of guilt about her crusty navel.
‘You’ve ruined it,’ grumbled Marie.
‘Oh get over it,’ said Ange impatiently. ‘Honestly Marie! You’re becoming such a bore.’
There was an insulted silence. Jaz, scrambling into her school shirt and doing up the buttons, thought she heard muffled sniffs. For a moment she felt bad, but it wouldn’t hurt Marie to be on the receiving end for once.
As they split up outside the mall to head for home, Ange grinned at her. ‘I’ll bring your ID to school with me in time for the weekend.’
* * *
‘And what time do you call this?’ asked Robyn when Jaz eventually got home. She banged a saucepan onto the stove. ‘It must be hours since you left Gi-Gi’s.’
Still in Ange mode, Jaz peered at her watch in exaggerated fashion and shook her wrist. ‘Oh my. Is that the time?’
‘That’s enough with the smart answers, Jasmine. Where’ve you been?’
‘Just spending time with my friends at the mall.’ Jaz couldn’t help adding, ‘Unlike you, I have a life.’
As soon as the words left her lips, she regretted them. She hadn’t intended picking a fight with Mum. Jaz waited for the storm to break over her head. It did. Lightning and thunder, the whole works. But it wasn’t about going to the mall. Bobbing up through the torrent: ‘that nosy bitch Sadie’, ‘betrayal’, ‘never been so humiliated …’
‘How … how could you?’ wailed Robyn, when her spate of words finally lost its force.
To Jaz’s horror she saw tears in her mother’s eyes. She swallowed. ‘Geez, Mum! I didn’t mean …’ She tried to explain. ‘I just thought ... I thought it might help if she knew. She was bound to find out eventually.’
‘She came over here with flowers,’ said Robyn through gritted teeth.
Jaz couldn’t help it. A snort of hysterical laughter escaped her.
‘It’s not funny.’ Robyn struggled to keep her face stern, then reluctantly joined in Jaz’s laughter. At last she wiped her eyes and said, ‘Don’t think I’ve forgiven you!’
‘C’mon, Mum,’ appealed Jaz. ‘She means well, you know she does. She’s one of your best friends.’
‘Heaven preserve me from well-meaning friends, then,’ said Robyn. She gave Jaz an unexpected hug. ‘For two pins, I’d wring your bloody neck.’
‘I’m truly deeply madly sorry,’ said Jaz meekly.
Her mother’s eyes glinted at her. ‘Don’t push your luck. Your dinner’s in the oven. Dried to a crisp, I expect.’
Jaz retrieved the plate and sat down to eat as Mum left her to it. The kitchen seemed so quiet – the lull after the storm. She scraped the last bit of casserole off her plate. A smile escaped her. She could hear her parents’ voices in the living room, a relaxed murmur. It seemed ages since she’d heard them talking like that. She had done the right thing, telling Sadie. For a moment she contemplated asking Mum’s advice about her infected belly button. Then she heard a quiet chuckle from Dad. Better not, it would be a pity to spoil the moment. Maybe tomorrow, when she could get Mum on her own. Jaz stacked her dishes in the machine then wiped the bench and sink top, feeling virtuous and full of good will towards her parents.
Saturday morning, early, a familiar toot had Jaz flying down the stairs in the T-shirt she slept in. She unlocked the front door and almost bowled Matt over as he came up the path.
‘Down, Rover!’ He disentangled her. ‘Honestly Jaz, you’re like some bloody great puppy.’
She grinned happily at him. ‘Don’t knock it – unlikely you’ll get such dee-votion from any other girl!’
‘Thanks very much.’ Matt looked at her curiously. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing special. Things seem to be improving around here, that’s all.’
‘About time,’ her brother muttered. He looked over her shoulder. ‘Yo. Mum.’
‘Morning, Matt,’ said Robyn. ‘Jaz, do you have to flaunt yourself half-naked in front of the neighbours?’
‘Honestly, Mum – nobody’s even up yet. Anyway, I’m perfectly decent.’ Jaz trailed back upstairs to get dressed.
‘I’ll put your board on the Mini!’ Matt called after her. ‘You’ve got five minutes.’
When Jaz came back down, the two of them were still standing awkwardly in the doorway, as though Matt didn’t belong here any more. The thought threatened to cloud her earlier happiness. She went into the kitchen to grab fruit from the bowl, butter bread rolls and cut cheese, not wanting to leave Matt stranded for too long.
‘What time are you expecting to drop her back?’ Robyn asked when she rejoined them.
‘Six-ish, I guess,’ said Matt. ‘Thereabouts. Is there a problem?’
‘It’s just that Dad’s got people coming for early drinks and a meal about then – business contacts,’ said Robyn. ‘This first contract he’s lined up.’
‘Oh, I get it.’ Jaz leapt in. ‘Layabout surfie son and indecent daughter with nose stud appearing on the doorstep at the same time might just spoil the image?’
‘Really, Jaz. I didn’t say that.’ Robyn sighed.
‘You didn’t need to,’ said Jaz. ‘Fine. I’ll stay at Matt’s for the night.’
‘It’s usual to wait for an invitation,’ Matt pointed out. ‘It’s okay by me, Mum, if that solves the problem. She can use my sleeping bag. I’ll bring her home safe and sound tomorrow morning.’
Robyn smiled at him then. ‘Would you? That’d be great, if you really wouldn’t mind. We’re both a bit on edge about this meeting.’
Jaz wasn’t listening. She flounced down the path, got into the Mini and sat there, scowling.
‘Give it a rest,’ said Matt as he pulled out from the curb. ‘No wonder you’re always in strife. Talk about over-reacting!’
‘But, but … she’s always so uptight,’ protested Jaz.
‘But, but …’ said Matt, teasing her. ‘You were way out of line. These people sound important. Don’t you want Dad to have a decent go at this consultancy thing?’
‘S’pose.’ Jaz aimed a blow at his arm. ‘Why do you always have to be right?’
‘My superior male intellect of course,’ said Matt, warding her off with his elbow.
It seemed ages since Jaz had been out on the water. Even her suspect belly button couldn’t spoil her anticipation. As soon as Matt had taken off, she applied one of the protective waterproof patches. She was sick of the constant cleaning with cotton buds and antiseptic lotions. She pulled up her wetsuit cautiously, taking care not to snag the bar-bell that protruded despite the patch she’d put on.
Sun and a warm breeze beckoned. Jaz rigged her board quickly and carried it down to the launching ramp. She’d missed this. Wading out until the water reached her knees, she manipulated her board to the right angle, tilted the boom forward until the sail powered up, then stepped up and away. As the board picked up speed, she sheeted in, then hooked into her harness. Perfect beach start!
Conscious of the envious looks from the audience of struggling beginners, she headed off on a broad reach across the Estuary. Watch out, Barbara Kendall! Dream on, she grinned to herself. But as always, there was pure magic in the flex and stretch of muscle as her body instinctively accommodated the movement of the board under her feet and the pull of the rig. Pure magic in the thrum of wind against the sail and in the pluck and purl of water streaming in her wake. She felt like singing.
It was one of those rare days when everything came together. The water was smooth enough for her to power into each gybe turn without hesitating. She still felt she was scrambling inelegantly to get her feet into position as she came round onto the new beat, but even that was working better than ever before. For part of the morning she followed close behind Sophie, matching the other girl’s speed and picking up on technique. It was awesome. When at last Sophie pulled away and headed off out into the rougher water to join Matt and her brother, Jaz was content to cruise. It’d be a long time before she was up to their level.
At lunchtime, Sophie, Matt, and his friends joined her to sprawl on the grass near the cars. Jaz handed her brother a filled roll. ‘Get your face around this.’
‘Ta,’ said Matt, his mouth already full. ‘Wasn’t expecting to be fed.’
‘Make the most of it,’ retorted Jaz, slapping tomato into her own roll. ‘It’s not likely to become a habit.’
‘Spare us,’ groaned Jeff. ‘Another liberated woman!’
‘You’d better believe it,’ said Sophie, poking her brother in the ribs good-naturedly.
‘Those guys in the old days didn’t know how good they had it,’ mused Matt, reaching over Jaz for another roll. ‘Submissive women waiting on them, obeying their every word. It’d be neat, eh?’
‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ said Jaz. ‘It wasn’t a bit like that.’ She found herself telling them about Maggie Mouat and Stewart Island. The others listened, only interrupting her to ask questions every now and then. At last she stopped talking, aware she’d been raving on for some time. ‘Sorry – it’s just that I think about Maggie heaps.’
‘She sounds awesome all right,’ said Jeff.
‘Think I’ll settle for here and now, after all,’ said Matt, licking tomato off his fingers.
The talk drifted on to something else, and Jaz drowsed, enjoying the relaxed way Matt’s friends spoke to each other. One by one, the guys gathered up their gear and went back out on the water. Sophie seemed in no hurry. She waved them away with a grin when Jeff commented on her laziness, then stretched out on the grass. ‘Been meaning to ask you a favour,’ she said when they’d all gone. ‘Didn’t Matt say something a while back about you winning a cup for fashion design?’
Jaz’d had no idea Matt had even noticed. ‘Earlier this year,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m not doing that stuff any more.’
‘I was hoping you’d help me out.’ Sophie sounded disappointed. ‘We’ve got our senior formal coming up. I’d been wondering whether you’d be interested in rustling up something radical for me.’
‘Sorry,’ Jaz said, shrugging. But she couldn’t help feeling pleased by the implied compliment. After a moment, she asked, ‘What were you thinking – wearable art stuff?’
‘Sort of,’ said Sophie. ‘I’ve got some ideas, but I haven’t a clue where to start.’
Jaz had always wanted to try something really funky. ‘Have you done any sketches?’
‘Nah, even that’s out of my league.’ Sophie grinned at her. ‘But I was thinking along the lines of a mermaid, like the one on Matt’s Mini. Maybe using sail shapes and colours.’
‘Yeah, that might work,’ mused Jaz, unable to stop her mind running with the idea.
‘Could you be tempted, after all?’ Sophie’s face lit up when Jaz nodded slowly.
‘I’m staying down here with Matt tonight – maybe we could get together later and work something up?’ she suggested.
‘That’d be great!’ Sophie got to her feet. ‘How about I bring some takeaways or something – make a night of it.’
Jaz followed the other girl back to where they’d left their boards. As she snatched a last few reaches before the tide went out, that familiar excitement about tackling a new project was growing. She’d really missed that feeling. Sophie had done her a favour. It crossed her mind, not for the first time, that Sophie might make a better friend than Ange Watson.